


A little late without warning

by MetaJets feral time (GalekhXigisi)



Series: Menstrual fics [7]
Category: MetaJets
Genre: Gender Dysphoria, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Menstruation, Nausea, Trans Zachary "Zak" Kim | Vector, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-03
Updated: 2020-01-03
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:40:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22095766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GalekhXigisi/pseuds/MetaJets%20feral%20time
Summary: Zak feels sick and realizes why too late, to which his team offers support.
Series: Menstrual fics [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1559251
Kudos: 3





	A little late without warning

The thing about being a part of the MetaJets team is that no matter the emotional turmoil or physical drawbacks, there are usually very few acceptions to someone getting out of work. Just crashed your jet and getting a shitty old model as a replacement until it’s fixed? Get over it and get in the old rusty clunker and pray you to survive. Broke your wrist during a mission? Buckle up, buttercup, it only gets worse from here on out. However, Zak was rather sure that breaking things like your ankles, ribs, or just generally something that can be a giant risk or render you immobile can get you out, as well as losing a family member or two within the whole ordeal. Despite that, he still wishes menstruation and the emotional shitfest that came with it could get him out of fighting. It was already strenuous enough that he had to deal with cramps and other aches, now he also has to deal with kicks, punches, and doing barrel rolls in the sky to avoid getting shot down and dying. Yeah, not the best of jobs, really. 

Which leads him to where he is now, stomach in knots as he does another roll. The feeling is so fucking  _ disgusting, _ the boy cringing and gagging at the feeling. Burner laughs at Vector,  _ “What, Vector? Can’t deal with a couple of spins? That’s, what? Your seventh barrel in a roll?” _

The other scoffs at the words, grumbling, “M’not feeling too hot, Boss man, kind of want to just hightail it out of here.” 

Foxtrot decides to butt in, _ ”Can’t do that! You’ve still got Crusher on your tail, you know!”  _ A few shots follow, the sound of one of her rockets colliding with one of the many Black Cloud bots just beside the raven-haired boys’ jet. 

He doesn’t thank her as he grumbles something along the lines of  _ I know _ and  _ I can’t exactly fire behind me, can I? _ He’s sure they’re quick and snappy, which he’s usually not and he’ll apologize for later. Right now, though, he has to repress the urge to gag again as he has to do a couple of spins to avoid slamming into one of the many decoy bots displayed around the base of Paris. He wasn’t all that fond of Paris after so many misadventures here that never turned out too positive outside of,  _ “Hey, we won.” _ Then again, everywhere seemed to have that effect on him now. Was he just turning bitter? Oh, that wasn’t a good look on him, he’s sure. It makes his insides squirm at realizing just how angry he was turning. It reminds him of his mother. He just barely swallows down his bile, but he’s sure the others hear the audible gag he does and  _ almost _ lurch forward. 

His head is killing him when he finally lands, ears ringing and stomach demanding to be emptied. He almost turns off his hearing aids, though he pauses as his thoughts are interrupted to run to the nearest trashcan. He moves his helmet up just enough to upchuck what he had for lunch. It wasn’t much. He’s rather thankful, now, that a sudden Black Cloud pseudo-slash MetaJets related issue popped up in the middle of lunch instead of after. Otherwise, there’d certainly be a lot less dry heaving and a lot more disgusting mess to take care of. 

A hand rubs against his back, just barely felt over the metal plates aligning his body as armor. Outside of their missions, Zak didn’t mind that they didn’t cover all physical sensations. He’s rather sure it’s Maggie, her movements counterclockwise as the helmet gets pulled away and hair held back. Or, maybe it’s two people, maybe even all three of his friends. He’s not sure, but he kind of hopes it is as tears fall down his face, collecting in the trashcan as his sobs roll from him. He  _ hates _ that he’s the type to cry when sick. He had a streak of not crying, after all! 

As he suspects, it  _ was _ Maggie who has been rubbing his back, her words so soft and encouraging as she whispers to him. Johnny holds his hair back, keeping it from getting in the disgusting mix of snot, saliva, vomit, and tears. He’s crying, clinging to the rim of the trash as Trey wraps his jacket around his waist, so very careful with his movements. Only then does it strike him what’s going on. 

His monthly has never once been regulated, coming at random and hitting hard no matter what. He was used to the aches that came with the job, discarding the ache in his hips and lower abdomen as that that came from Vipers’ harsh kick just last night when they stopped him from mugging a man, which had been odd. A  _ mugging? _ That was an awfully low-level threat for a trained Black Cloud agent, but Zak supposes everyone needed some form of payment to eat, no matter where it came from. He would never admit that he could relate, remembering those times before ARC came along and he’d been so boney and no better than any of the other crooks. Things changed, though, and no one needed to know about his past outside of his captain, after all. 

There’s a lot of care that goes into the actions from his teammates. Trey fetching him water and making sure the coast was clear, offering him mouthwash and whatever else was needed by the boy, who was still crying and now in desperate need of something to contradict the nausea and pressure on his hips that suddenly seems very prominent. More tears fall, which no one comments on as he washes his mouth out. He collapses into Maggie’s arms, folding beneath her touch. The blonde doesn’t comment, raking her fingers through his hair. She’s dealt with this before, handled countless dysphoria-driven mental blocks. She certainly doesn’t seem off now, holding him tightly not minding being his anchor for now as he sobs into her shoulder.

It’s more than just the vomiting that leads them to where they are. It’s more than just the end of the days’ stress from work, too. It’s the sudden realization that all these things he constantly discarded were signs towards something he still wasn’t used to despite years of it. It happened every single time, the boy collapsing in tears with en of his teammates holding him while the stress and horrid aches overtook every part of his body. He wishes he would have had another warning than just the morning of cramps before everything set in. Usually, he at least  _ bloated _ first. 

He hasn’t told Johnny yet, but the boy is rather sure the redhead got the point pretty quickly, offering him some pain killers without a second thought. It’s actually rather amazing how easily he adapts to the other. Then again, with enough extensive research that had resurfaced earlier this year, anyone could find out about Zak and his identical twin sister, the children of an astounding scientist who only had custody of one child instead of both. He wishes it were neither. 

The redhead offers to carry him back to his room once the tears start to falter. And then Zak, too, falters with his words, staring at Johnny with wide, red-rimmed eyes. He  _ trusts _ Johnny, no, there wasn’t much of a doubt about that after he and the redhead had a few heart to hearts after some particularly rough races not too long ago, but it’s still…  _ New _ to Zak, seeing the acceptance and want to help the situation. His mother was never once like that, only pushing the situation, spurring it on with coal thrown into flames that licked at Zak’s skin before consuming him. But Johnny doesn’t falter, offering a wide smile that matches tan, flecked skin. He’s pretty sure Trey once called the freckled farm boy “sunkissed,” which Zak now understands exactly why. 

And he nods, not minding all that much, though he does insist he walks by himself. Johnny just walks beside him, not commenting in the least. He offers a smile and supportive arm for the other. 

**Author's Note:**

> I will bring content to the fandom. Yes, MetaJets is dead. Yes, I desperately want there to be a reboot. And, yes, I want it to cover as many harsh bases of life that She-Ra and (almost) V*ltron did.
> 
> here's my Discord server  
> https://discord.gg/eGkwayy


End file.
